The Long, Intriguing Summer
by Frannie1
Summary: The sequel to An Interesting Proposal. George is out in the real world, facing the challenges of working, family, and -- most confusing of all -- women. Completed
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: All right, for those of you who have read The Order of the Phoenix, you will know that this story doesn't make much sense, but I'm posting it anyway. I'd like to keep writing it to make a kind of trilogy, I hope. I guess if you don't review, I'll know that you, the readers, want complete accuracy, so I won't post anymore. Thanks. 

CHAPTER I

"I don't see why you have to work there, George. What happened with Mr. Bell's store? I thought you were going to work for him." 

George Weasley sighed. "Mum, we've been through this before. Mr. Bell didn't think I was cut out for that kind of work. And I'm inclined to agree with him." He finished combing his red hair. "Besides, I'd much rather work at a broomstick repair shop than a noisy pet store." 

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Well, I suppose I'll have to deal with you being away again." She held his face in her hands for a moment, then let go. "I just wish Fred could find a nice job closer to home." 

"Mum, I haven't even gotten the job yet--this is only an interview," George reminded her. "I'll be home before dinner." 

"Good luck!" she called and George Apparated. "There goes another." 

~

George straightened his cloak, standing outside of Ye Olde Broomstick Repair Shoppe. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and walked in. He stepped up to the front desk and tentatively rang the bell. "Hello?" he asked. He had never felt more nervous and insecure in his entire life. Standing there, he felt so small. 

"In a minute!" came a voice from the back room. "I'll be with you in a minute!" Soon a young man stepped into view, wearing a black cloak and a bright red and yellow striped sweater. "Hello, George. Nice seeing you again. After my...er...abrupt leaving last year, I didn't really get a chance to say good-bye." 

"Oliver, _you_ own this place?" George asked, aghast. 

Oliver Wood frowned. "Unfortunately, no. It's my dad's." He brightened a little. "But when he's not here, it's as good as mine." The Scot checked his watch. "Well, why don't we do that interview? Come along, this'll only take a few minutes." 

Still nervous, George followed his former schoolmate into a small, cramped room. "What are all these boxes for?" he questioned, glancing at all the crates lining the walls. 

"Oh, just supplies." Oliver walked to the far side of the small circular table and sat down on a crate. "Pull up a box." 

George took a seat and watched as Oliver searched for something in one of the boxes. "Ah! Here we are!" He set down a stack of parchment, some quills, and an inkbottle. He stared at the writing utensils for a moment, found one he liked, and tossed the others back into the box. "All right. Shall we begin?" 

"Uh, that would be nice." 

"Name, please," Oliver said, staring at the parchment. "Please include your middle initial." 

"Oliver you _know_ my name!" George protested. 

"Just answer the question," he persisted. 

"George--" 

"And last name first," Oliver interrupted. 

George rolled his eyes. "Weasley, George H." 

" 'H,' huh?" Oliver asked, interested. "What _is_ your middle name?" 

"Horatio," George replied, slightly embarrassed. 

"Have you ever had a job before? And if so, what line of work was it?" Oliver sucked on the end of the quill in thought. 

"Just physical stuff," George replied. "De-gnoming yards for friends--those sorts of things." He waited impatiently for the next question, wanting very much for the interview to end. He watched Oliver write a few more notes on the parchment. "Are you done?" 

"Yep." Oliver stood up and extended a hand. "Well, George, I'll let you know." He pulled his hand away from George's and smiled. "Just so you know, it's looking good." As he led the Weasley twin out of the shop, he said, "You'll be getting an owl in a couple of days." 

George sighed and started walking down the cobblestone street. He wanted the job, but not badly enough to spend every single day with Oliver Wood. Oliver was nice, sure...he was just a little on the bossy side. In George's experience, most only children were that way. "Well, it's money," George said finally to himself. At least now he would be getting _paid_ for spending time with Wood. During Quidditch practice in previous years, it had been George who had paid. 

"So, how'd it go?" 

George jumped and turned around to find the speaker. When he saw whom it was, his heart stopped pounding in his chest. "Oh, hey, Fred," he said to his twin. "It went all right." 

"Did you speak with the owner?" Fred asked curiously. "I've always wondered who owned that place." 

"I didn't talk to the owner," George replied. "But Oliver was there." 

"Oliver Wood?!" George nodded. "Well, I bet you'll be _begging_ them not to hire you now." Fred laughed. 

"He seemed awfully strange," George commented. "Unlike himself, y'know?" George shrugged. "Maybe I'm just tired." 

"You certainly look it." Fred gulped down the drink he held in his hand. "I saw Angelina this morning." 

George raised an eyebrow. "Oh..._that's_ why you're here." 

"She's interning at the Ministry," Fred explained. "In the Dark Arts defense department." Fred looked uncomfortable, nervous, maybe. 

"You know, that doesn't mean she's tramping off to fight Dark Wizards all the time," George said, trying to reassure his brother. 

"That's what she said," Fred sighed. "I'm just worried about her, that's all." 

"You shouldn't be--she can take care of herself." George pulled his wand out. "You going home?" 

Fred nodded and they both disappeared. He put a hand to his stomach, shaking his head. "I still haven't gotten used to that." 

George steadied himself. "Me either." He pushed open the front door. "I'm starving. I wonder if there's anything to eat." 

"George? George, is that you?" Mrs. Weasley called from another level of the house. She rushed down to the kitchen. "How did your first day of work go, dear?" 

"Mum, I told you, it was just an interview!" George said impatiently. "I should get an owl in a couple of days." However, just as the words had left his mouth, the window behind him swung open and an owl swooped in. An envelope was dropped onto his head and the owl swooped back out. George grabbed the envelope and read it over quickly. "It's from Oliver." 

"That was quick," Fred commented. 

George opened the envelope and pulled out the parchment. "I'm hired," he said. "And I start on Monday." 

"Oh, bless you, George," Mrs. Weasley said tearfully. She gave him a hug and kissed his cheek. She turned to the other twin. "Now, Fred, when are _you_ going to find work? You could learn something from your brother." Fred rolled his eyes, about to protest, and she sighed happily. "Well, I'll put lunch on." 

"I applied, but I never thought...I never thought I'd get the job." George shook his head. "I don't understand why Oliver didn't wait a little while longer, though. There must have been others--how could I have been the best person for the job?" 

"Maybe it's favoritism," Fred suggested. "His father owns it, right? So, there's already nepotism." He laughed. "Who cares, anyway? It's money, and we don't have any. Get over it." 

"I am over it." George inhaled. "See? All gone." Fred shook his head and walked away. George messed up his hair to his liking and turned to his mother. "Hey, Mum? Has the post come yet?" 

"Yes, George, I think there was a letter for you," Mrs. Weasley replied, not looking up from her cooking. "It's on the table." 

"Thanks." George sorted through the mail and found the one addressed to him. "Hermione," he breathed, and lost his balance. 

Mrs. Weasley yelled, startled, as George and the chair he grabbed toppled over. "George! What happened?!" 

He pulled himself up and picked up the chair. "Nothing, I just...lost my balance. That's all." He stuffed the letter into his pocket and ran up to his room. Fred wasn't in there, luckily, and George promptly locked the door. He took a seat on his bed and quickly tore open the envelope. The parchment was covered in the neat penmanship that George knew belonged to Hermione: 

Dear George,   
I'm in a hotel room right now in China, and for some reason, I just started thinking about you. Maybe it has something to do with the joke shop I saw earlier. But enough about that. What I really wanted to say was, I'm sorry. I probably made your last year at Hogwarts miserable. So, I'm sorry. Has Ron cooled off yet? I just wish we had never gotten together, because now I have to work up the nerve to break it off. If I would have known the feelings you had for me, George, and the feelings I have for you, things would have been much easier from the start. 

With love,   
Hermione 

P.S. If you receive any letters from Mildred Danger, please open them. It's a bit of protection I've thought up.   
P.P.S. I want to see you. Could we meet in Diagon Alley?   
P.P.P.S. I'm not really in China. 

George smiled and put the letter under his pillow. She loves me, he thought. 

~

"Look." Fred shoved the newspaper in George's face. "Read this, right here." 

George squinted at the tiny print. " 'Attack at the Ministry--presumed to be Dark Wizards.' Yeah, so what?" 

Fred snatched up the paper. "So what?! Angelina could be killed there! My poor sweet Angelina's out there, somewhere in that big, scary world--" 

"Would you give it a rest?" George rolled his eyes. "She's not as frail as you think she is. She survived _you_ anyway. Now, leave me alone. I'm trying to write a letter." 

Fred peeked over his brother's shoulder. "Oh? To who? Mildred Danger? Who's that? I've never heard of her." 

"Of course you haven't," George snapped. "She's my pen pal from Israel." 

"Israel?" Fred inquired. 

"Well, she wasn't _born_ there, of course," George said, saving himself quickly. "Her family's from England and they moved to Israel." 

"But how did _you_ meet her?" Fred eyed him suspiciously. 

"Chance," George replied simply. "It was chance. Now leave me alone." 

Fred walked off, singing obnoxiously, "George's got a girl-friend, George's got a girl-friend!" He laughed and disappeared from George's earshot. 

"You've got a girlfriend?" Ron asked, sitting down at the table. "Let me guess--Katie Bell?" 

"No, I don't have a girlfriend, Ron," George answered. "I'm writing to my pen pal. I met her in Diagon Alley some time ago and we've been friends ever since." George glanced at his younger brother. "You seem a bit gloomy. What's wrong?" 

Ron sighed. "Hermione's in China and Mum says Harry can't come over until August." 

"Hermione's in China?" George asked curiously. Ron nodded. _Well, she's lying to Ron already,_ he thought. "That's nice. I wonder if she's seen the Great Wall. The Imperial Palace is supposed to be really amazing. One of China's emperors was said to be a Wizard." George smiled. "Though Binns told us he was in denial. He thought he was a Muggle, so nobody was suspicious." 

Ron exhaled. "Wonderful. School in the summer." 

George shrugged. "I always liked History--it's fascinating." Wanting to change the subject quickly, he said, "I know you don't like school now, Ron, but I'd trade anything to be back there." He signed his name and stuffed the letter into an envelope. "After working at the repair shop for three weeks, I've--well, let's just say I took Hogwarts for granted." 

"Whatever." Ron rolled his eyes. When George suddenly stood up, he questioned, "Where are you going?" 

"I've got to send Errol along with this," he gestured toward the letter, "and then I'm off to work." 

Ron looked at his watch. "Aren't you leaving a little late?" 

"I'm not working as long today," George explained. Carefully, he tied the letter to the owl's leg, and sent him off. "Well, see you later." And with a loud cracking noise, he Apparated. 


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER II

George checked his watch nervously. Finally, _finally_ he was going to see her. He had waited much too long in his opinion. He was standing on the corner of Burbank and Guardian--a more secluded area of Diagon Alley--waiting for her. Every time a witch came into view, George jumped, assuming it was Hermione. But as she would near him, he would realize quickly that it really looked nothing like her and he had been stupid to believe it was her in the first place. He sighed. _She'll be here,_ he told himself anxiously. _She has to be here._

And then he saw a witch come over the rise, walking very quickly and constantly glancing over her shoulder. George knew that had to be Hermione, but he waited all the same, trying not to watch her every step. 

"George!" she cried when she caught sight of him. She ran swiftly to him and hugged him tightly. 

"Hermione, I...I know it sounds stupid, but I didn't think I'd ever get to see you again," George said, blushing slightly. When he realized he was clutching her hands tightly, he let go. "Sorry." 

"It's okay!" she said happily. "So, what have you been up to?" she asked. "I mean, besides the job and everything." 

George stared at her--she was beaming at him, and he couldn't seem to find the words to speak. "I've never seen you this happy. It's so odd..." 

Hermione blushed, her cheeks turning a light pink color. "I'm just glad to see you, that's all. I haven't had any real human--wizard, rather--contact in such a long time. I suppose Harry sent me a letter and I've gotten a few from...well, from Ron..." She trailed off. Talking about Ron seemed to make her feel uncomfortable. "But I'm here with you, now." 

George smiled. "So, uh, what do you want to do?" 

"Oh, I don't care," Hermione said quickly. "Whatever you want." 

"No, no," George said. _"You_ decide." 

"George!" she laughed, then thought a moment. "All right. How 'bout we go get a glass of butterbeer. It's been a while since I've had some." 

"Your wish is my command," he joked, bowing very low. Hesitantly, he took her hand and they walked back to the Leaky Cauldron.   
  


"See you around, Oliver!" Katie Bell shouted. She held the smooth broomstick in her hands lovingly. Her smile fading quickly, she walked away from the repair shop. Despite her pleasant demeanor in the shop, she really was having a rather depressing summer: Her grandmother (who was a witch as well) suddenly fell ill and passed away, her family was constantly being harassed for being "Muggle lovers," and to top it all off, she had absolutely no direction in her life. 

Katie sighed. The N.E.W.T.s had been difficult and she had done fairly well, but that still hadn't helped her out. Suddenly she stopped moving, staring at a pair of wizards walking hand in hand down the street. It was George Weasley and Hermione Granger. She was stunned, unable to move from the shock going through her body. George and Hermione--she had assumed there was nothing there! She had hoped there was nothing there. Unable to control her curiosity, she followed them.   
  


"Two butterbeers," George said, and two flagons were thrust into his open hands. "Thanks." He and Hermione sat down. "You know," he began, glancing around at the crowded pub, "I'm starting to think this was a bad idea." 

"Sorry, George," Hermione apologized. "Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea--everything about it." 

George watched her skeptically. "What do you mean? Oh, Hermione, you're not having second thoughts about us, are you? _Again,"_ he added. "I don't like this secrecy either, but until you tell Ron, it's the only thing we _can_ do." 

Hermione nodded. "I told him I was getting back from China at the end of July." She took a deep breath. "I'll send him a letter then." 

"I think it would be respectful to him if you told him personally," George said quietly. "He _is_ my brother, after all." 

Hermione nodded nervously and smiled weakly. "Of course, George, you're right. I'll tell him to his face."   
  


Katie stared at the pair sadly. It had been inevitable, of course. When it came right down to things, George was as determined and stubborn as Oliver Wood. If he wanted something badly enough, he would do anything to get it. 

_Stop being jealous,_ she told herself. _He likes Hermione, not you--he maybe even loves her._ "I can't take it anymore," she muttered and marched over to their table. Unfortunately, she wasn't paying attention to anything but George, and she barreled right into a waitress. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Katie cried, bending down to pick up the spilled glasses. 

"No need," the old woman said, flicking her wand out. "No 'arm done." She put on a toothy--or rather _not_ toothy, as she was missing many teeth--grin. 

Katie forced a smile in return. "Again, I'm really sorry." The waitress walked back to the bar to refill the drinks, and when Katie turned back to George's table, he was gone. "Where...?" was all that came out of her mouth. She pushed her way through the crowd and out the door into the streets of London. But George was nowhere in sight. Not bothering to check if anyone was watching, she Apparated.   
  


"I'd better get home," said Hermione a little uneasily. "My parents get worried when I'm late." 

George nodded. "Sure. You know how my mum gets." He laughed. "Of course, she thinks I'm at work." 

"Well, uh, bye, then," Hermione said. "I'll see you in a few weeks, maybe. I don't know how Ron will take it." 

"Just don't worry about it, okay?" He smiled, waiting for her to do the same. "Okay?" 

"Okay. I'll try not to." Hermione hugged him quickly. 

"Have a safe trip back," George said. "Don't get mugged in the--er--tub train?" 

Hermione laughed. "The tube," she said, grinning. "Good-bye, George." She started walked away and he Apparated. 


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER III

"Check these out." Fred shoved a yellow candy in George's face. "I just developed them yesterday," he whispered. "They make your eyes bulge out half an inch for up to three hours. I'm trying to get it to go for longer but Ginny was complaining her eyes were starting to hurt. Side effects," he grunted. "There's always an X-factor." 

George nodded understandingly. "Look, I was thinking about the joke shop." He glanced around for his mother, but she was nowhere in sight. "I reckon if I work a few more weeks and add that to the gold Harry gave us, we'll have enough for the shop." 

"We already have enough," Fred said, prodding the candy with his wand. Green sparks shot out and the eye-shaped candy became larger. "That'll do." He looked up at George, who had a rather befuddled look on his face. "Didn't I tell you? In Diagon Alley that morning we ran into each other, I bought it." 

"How could you--?" 

"Shh!" Fred hissed. "Not so loud!" 

George lowered his voice. "How could you not tell me about that?! I'm your _partner!"_

Fred shrugged. "Must've slipped my mind." He leaned in closer over the table. "Look, tomorrow we go check out the place. I couldn't go before then, anyway, because some old guy's been using it for storage. He should be cleared out by now, though." 

George nodded. "All right." He bit his lip, then turned to Fred. "Do you think we've got enough supplies?" 

Fred eyed his brother. "What, are you scared?" 

"Have you ever known me to be scared of anything?" George retorted. He exhaled. "It's just...what'll Mum think of all this, us not telling her and all?" 

"Look," Fred began, a smile creeping onto his lips, "Mum's just glad we haven't _died_ yet. Don't worry about it." 

~

"I COULD KILL YOU BOTH RIGHT NOW!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked. "OPENING THAT JOKE SHOP WITHOUT MY OR YOUR FATHER'S CONSENT--WHAT WERE YOU _THINKING?"_

Fred ducked as a pan came flying toward him. "Mum, we were going to tell you about it, honest!" 

"And besides--" George fell to the ground to avoid another pan, "--we haven't even _opened_ it yet!" 

"I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, AFTER ALL WE'VE TAUGHT YOU, YOU GO OFF AND DO SOMETHING STUPID LIKE THIS! I HATE TO THINK WHAT YOU'LL DO NEXT!" She took a moment to breathe. "IT'S HARD ENOUGH FOR YOUR FATHER AND I WITH THE _ORDER,_ AND _NOW_ WE'VE GOT TO WORRY ABOUT WHAT YOU TWO ARE DOING ALONE IN DIAGON ALLEY!" She was fuming, her face bright red--the way all the Weasleys looked when they were angry. _"Accio pans!"_ she shouted and the two pots she had thrown flew into her open hands. 

George peeked out from under the table. "We're sorry, Mum," he said weakly. "We should have told you." 

"Yeah, sorry, Mum," Fred tried. 

Mrs. Weasley didn't look at either of them, but went back to her cooking. 

Fred gave George a worried look and they both went up to their room. Once safely inside, Fred said quietly, "Maybe we should ask her the secrets to bulging your eyes for that long." 

George didn't want to laugh, he didn't think it right, somehow, but he could hardly control himself. The way his mother had looked: her hair frizzed like she had been electrocuted, her face red, and her eyes bugged out a good three inches from her skull--it had been quite a sight. "She's really something..." George said, shaking his head, still giggling to himself. 

"So, how was your date?" Fred asked nonchalantly. 

"Fine," George answered before he realized what his brother had just asked. "Wait--what? What did you say?" he asked quickly, trying to cover it up. 

"You heard me." He crossed his arms. "How long did you think you could keep something like that from me? We twins have a bond, you know." 

"Look, please don't tell anyone, _especially_ Ron." George shuddered. "How did you find out, anyway?" 

"I read your letter," Fred replied. 

"But I was writing to Mildred--she's just my friend," George said, still trying to keep his secret. 

Fred raised an eyebrow. "Mildred Danger--Hermione Granger, how thick do you think I am?" He stared at George skeptically. "Well?" 

"Well what?" George asked, staring back. "If you think I'm telling you _anything_ that went on, you're nutters." 

Fred clapped a hand to his mouth. "Oh, god. You didn't get her _pregnant,_ did you?" He shook his head, laughing. 

"No, no I didn't get her pregnant--don't even _say_ that." George tried not to imagine Hermione with an overly large belly sticking out of her Hogwarts robes. When Fred continued to watch him, George asked, "What now?" 

"I'm still waiting for details," Fred answered directly. 

"What details?" George asked exasperated. "There _are_ no details!" He sighed and said, "All right. But it wasn't that exciting. All that happened was we met at a street corner and went to the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer. Really, nothing happened. We didn't even kiss each other good-bye." 

"What a boring date," Fred commented. "I suppose it was a good thing that it was only five minutes long." 

George rolled his eyes. "It was more than five minutes," he said defensively. "Hermione wasn't exactly feeling her best. She's always worried about what everyone will think about us, how wrong it is. Besides that, I can't stand doing everything in secret. I wish she'd just tell Ron and get it over with." 

At that moment, Ron barged into the room. "Tell me what?" 

"Do you ever _knock?"_ George sneered, slightly taken aback. 

Ron looked a bit confused, but questioned again, "What were you going to tell me?" 

"Nothing," George replied savagely. 

"And he was eavesdropping too," Fred added. 

"Get out, Ron," George said. 

"Sorry," Ron said angrily, slamming the door. 

Fred shrugged and looked at George. "Well, that was easier than I thought it would be." He locked the door and muttered something, tapping his wand to it. "Let's see _Alohomora_ get through this lock." 

George laughed. "Hermione's gonna break the news to him in three weeks, when she 'gets back' from China. Remember, Fred, she's in China." He glanced out the window. "Dad's home." 

Fred looked to the window. His father was just walking to the door. "I hope nothing happened at work. All Mum needs is another comment from Percy." 

"That git," George muttered angrily. "I can't believe him." 

"Me either," Fred said. "Even if it has been a year." 

"BOYS!" Mr. Weasley yelled. "COME DOWN HERE! I WANT TO TALK TO YOU TWO!" 

Fred and George shared a distressed glance, then walked down to the kitchen, where George assumed his mother still was fuming. "Hi, Dad," they both said simultaneously. 

Mr. Weasley stood in front of them, arms akimbo, peering down at them. "Now, what's all this about a joke shop?" 

George was about to reply, but Fred stepped in first. "You knew we were going to do it sometime, why wait 'till we're older? We have the money now!" 

"Where did you get all that money, boys?" Mr. Weasley questioned, taking off his hat and setting it on the coat rack. He stared at each twin in turn, concern in his eyes. "You haven't been stealing, have you?" 

"No!" George said quickly. There was an uneasy silence and George finally turned to Fred and stated, "This is as good a time as any, Fred. We have to tell them." 

Mrs. Weasley finally tore herself away from her cooking and approached the table. "Tell us what, George?" 

"Harry gave us the gold," George replied. "We weren't supposed to tell anyone, but seeing as you're accusing us of stealing, I thought I'd say something." 

"You took Harry's money?!" Mrs. Weasley cried. "How could you take that poor boy's money?" 

"Mum, we didn't take it," Fred began hastily, before she could make any more accusations, "he _gave_ it to us!" 

"But where did Harry get all that gold?" Mr. Weasley asked. 

"The Triwizard Tournament," George answered. "After we got off the train, he told us he didn't need the money." 

"We tried not to take it," Fred said swiftly at his mother's angry look. "But he practically made us." 

Mr. Weasley nodded in understanding. "So, you've already found a premises?" he asked suddenly. "Well, boys, I'm not going to tell you what I would have liked you to do--in matters of careers, that is," he added quickly. "If this is what you've chosen to do with your lives, then you have my blessing." 

Mrs. Weasley stared at her husband, dumbstruck. "What?! Arthur! They should be disciplined--this is insane--I don't want our boys throwing away their lives like this!" 

"We're not _throwing away_ our lives, Mum," Fred protested quietly. "This is what we want to do. _You_ know that. It's been our dream since before I can remember." 

"It's their _dream,_ Molly," Mr. Weasley said meekly. "Let them have it." 

She slumped down in a ratty old armchair and put her face in her hands. "I just wish you could be more like--" 

"What, more like Percy?" George interrupted fiercely. "Who abandoned his entire family when we really needed him? You want us to be more like that?" 

"We won't abandon you, Mum," Fred said sincerely. "We're just a quick Apparation away, you know." 

Mrs. Weasley slowly lowered her hands. "Oh, you're right. I'm sorry, Fred, George." She stood up and hugged them each in turn. "You...you have my permission to do whatever it is that your heart desires." 

George smiled weakly, as she crushed the air out of him. "Thanks, Mum." 


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER IV

"You're wearing _dress robes?"_ George asked incredulously, not bothering to stifle his laughter. 

"Can you tell?" Ron asked worriedly, straightening them. "Is it that bad?" 

"No," George replied, still chuckling. "I only recognized them because I bought them." He put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "You look fine, Ron." 

Ron sighed. "I've got twenty minutes." He went to stand in front of a mirror and tried to straighten his hair. 

George sat down at the table and picked up the Daily Prophet. To his surprise, Angelina Johnson was grinning back at him from the front page. She was standing next to a man George had never met, but whom he assumed was the head of the Dark Arts Defense Department. He had his arm around her in a sort of hug and Angelina didn't seem at all to be bothered by it. 

He didn't take the time to read the article, however, because Fred had just entered the room. Instead, he tore out the article and pocketed it. Whether it had anything complimentary about Angelina or not, he wasn't about to let Fred see it. 

"Hey, what've you got there?" Fred asked, hopping into the chair next to him. "Daily Prophet, eh? Who ripped off the front page?" 

"Ginny, probably," George replied, trying to sound as uninterested as possible. 

"Guess what?" Fred's eyes were wide with excitement. "If we move in this week, we can open by August twentieth. That means we'll be able to sell to all of the Hogwarts shoppers!" he said gleefully. 

George smiled. "Great!" 

"Did you quit yet?" Fred inquired. 

"Of course," George said. "Oliver didn't seem too happy about it--said something about never getting to play professional Quidditch." 

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and both twins turned to see what it was. Mrs. Weasley hurried over to the door. "Oh, _hello,_ Hermione!" 

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," came Hermione's soft muffled voice (she was being smothered by a hug). 

"How are you?" Mrs. Weasley asked happily. "Hungry? Good! Have a seat." She said this all very fast, not even giving Hermione a chance to reply. "Fred, clear off the table, please!" she yelled and went into the kitchen. 

"Hey, Hermione," Fred greeted, wiping crumbs from the midday meal off the table. "China was good, I expect? Yeah?" 

"It was lovely," she answered. George watched her as she sat fidgeting in her seat. She was wearing a long blue dress with short sleeves. George knew Hermione would be too embarrassed to wear a sleeveless dress in front of Ron and the rest of the Weasleys. Her auburn hair was a bit unruly, as it usually was. But she was pretty, even when she wasn't trying. 

George turned around when he heard one of the steps creak. 

Hermione stood up. "Hi Ron," she said uneasily, forcing a smile. 

He approached her and they kissed each other's cheeks, then he sat down next to her. "Hi. Sorry I didn't come down right away. I didn't hear the door. So..." He stared at her uncomfortably as Mrs. Weasley piled food onto their plates. "How was your vacation?" 

"Oh...it was wonderful," Hermione replied. Then she launched into an explanation of everything she would have seen, had she really _gone_ to China; George knew she had spent a day at the library reading up on it all. He admired that about her, doing all that research to back up her lie. She was amazing. 

~

"Well, um, I'd better be going," Hermione said, edging slowly to the door. "Thanks so much for the meal. Ron, can I have a word outside?" 

"Sure," Ron said and followed her out. 

George watched as the door shut and waited impatiently for his brother to come back.   
  


"Look, Ron," Hermione began, as he closed the door behind him. "Something happened last year that you're not going to like." 

"Oh, god, you're dating Malfoy, aren't you?" Ron said, aghast. 

Hermione looked befuddled for a moment, then she replied quickly, "No, no, of course not. What gave you that idea?" 

Ron shrugged and turned red. "So, what is it?" 

She stared down, unable to look him in the eye. "I can't date you anymore." 

Ron furrowed his brow. "I don't understand." 

"I'm dating George, Ron," she said, however it came out louder and more full of desperation than she would have liked. Ron didn't say anything and she couldn't help but look up at him. "I'm so sorry...it just...wasn't working out between us--we're so different! Ron, please say something, don't just stand there!" 

"All right. Good-bye." Ron looked at her briefly, then turned and went back inside. 

Unsuccessfully biting back a cry, Hermione walked off to the nearest bus stop. She crossed her arms, shivering from the cold night air and the guilt she was feeling.   
  


Ron shut the door and, dragging his feet along the wooden floor, walked up to his bedroom. Before he left the dining room, he shot a look at George that was not anger at all, but disappointment. 

George swallowed and went quietly to the door. Once outside, he gazed around for Hermione. "Hermione!" he called, and Apparated a short distance down the road. 

She screamed when he appeared in front of her. "George, what are you doing?!" Tears were falling freely down her face, but she could have cared less about them. 

"I was looking for you," he replied simply. 

"I don't want to talk right now!" Hermione cried angrily. She turned away and marched down the path, unfortunately tripping on a tree root. "Ah!" she cried and fell to the ground. Rather than try to rise, however, she merely sat on the dirt road and cried fiercely into her hands. 

George kneeled down next to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hermione--" 

She pulled away from him. "George, what is _happening_ to me?" she shouted. "Look what I've become! I can't control these feelings--I just _can't!"_ She hugged her knees, sobbing more quietly now. "I should have listened to my parents. 'Don't get involved,' they said. I mean, what are the odds that I'd fall for _two_ Weasleys?" 

Rather than object, he pulled her into a hug. "It's all right...everything will be fine," he said, letting her cry into his robes. 

"No, it won't," Hermione protested, pushing herself away again. "What about next year, at Hogwarts? Do you think Harry will even think twice about talking to me? This has happened before--they _both_ ignored me." 

"Well," George began weakly, "there's always Neville." 

"You're not helping." 

"I'm sorry." Suddenly, thunder struck and he looked up. Immediately afterward, rain began pouring down. He turned back to Hermione. "Well, this is nice." 

Hermione shook her head. "I have to get going if I want to catch a bus out of here." 

"Why don't you just call the Knight Bus?" George asked. Before she could protest, he pointed his wand straight into the air, flagging the massive vehicle. "I can't have you walking all that way in the pouring rain." 

"Thank you, George." She kissed him. "You're a real gentleman." She started for the bus. 

"Hermione," he said, wiping his hair away from his eyes. "You look beautiful. I...didn't get a chance to tell you." 

"Thanks." She smiled weakly. 

"And don't worry. Everything will work out." He took a breath, waved and watched the bus zoom off. "I know it will." 


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER V

"George, the reason I asked you here is I wanted to tell you something important." Katie stared at herself in the mirror. "He'll never understand." She sighed and Apparated. She was supposed to be meeting George in Diagon Alley at two o'clock. She was already late, and she saw him at once. 

"Hi, Katie!" he called, running up to her. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" 

Katie nodded nervously. "I have something to say and it's...really important, so...I'd better sit down." She took a seat on a bench nearby. "You should too," she said, pulling him down next to her. Katie took a deep breath and looked into George's eyes. "You know that we've always been really good friends, but...ever since last year, I've-I've been wanting more." 

"Katie--" George began disbelievingly. 

She held up a hand. "Please, George, let me finish." She inhaled again. "I've been spending a lot of time here with my dad, and well...I see you a lot too. And the more I see you and Hermione..._together,_ I find myself getting a bit envious." She put a shaky hand to her forehead to push away her hair. "What I'm trying to say is...I--I'm in love with you." 

George didn't say anything--he couldn't! His best friend had just proclaimed her love for him. He didn't know how to respond. Anything he said would hurt her feelings. Though he wasn't looking at her, he could feel her gaze upon him. Finally, Katie looked away. 

"I'm sorry, George," she said shakily. "I--I shouldn't have said anything. Um, I should be going." She stood up and started off. 

George Apparated to catch up with her. "Katie, why didn't you say something sooner? Like last year, when we were still in school together." 

She seemed surprised to hear those words come out of his mouth. "I didn't realize how wonderful you were until now." Katie wasn't crying, but it looked as though she could at any moment. 

"Why am I wonderful?" George asked suddenly. "I'm just a normal person like you--there's nothing special about me!" 

"But there _is!"_ Katie protested. "You're just too close to see it!" She took his hands, grasping them tightly. "You are a _wonderful_ person, George, and anyone who can't see that doesn't deserve you." And before George could react, she pulled him into the most passionate kiss he had ever been involved in. He couldn't help but kiss her back. Sure, he felt guilty. The thought of a tear-stained Hermione crossed his mind before they broke apart. 

"This is everything I've ever wanted," Katie said breathlessly. She was still clasping his hands. 

George stepped away. "You can't tell anyone about this, Katie. I won't do that to Hermione." 

Katie narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?" Her eyes widened in realization. "George, please don't do this to me. I love you, there's nothing purer than that. Tell me you feel the same way!" 

He shook his head slowly. "I don't. I'm sorry." 

Biting her lip, she turned away. "Good-bye," she said sadly. 

He tried to stop her, but with a loud crack, she was gone. George sighed and went home. Just like that he had lost his best friend; in a span of fifteen minutes his companion had left forever. George spent the next few days brooding over what had happened. He didn't want to lose Katie as a friend, but even if he managed to patch things up with her, their relationship would never be the same. Even if they were dating, it would still be awkward. Besides, it would be wrong to abandon Hermione now--she seemed too fragile. George didn't know what to do; he was utterly befuddled. 

But he wasn't the only one having trouble, Fred had just told him that Angelina had been seeing another man. "She said it meant nothing--it was her boss or something." 

"I don't get them," George said suddenly. 

"Who?" 

"Women," George replied. "How do their brains work, anyway?" He rubbed his aching neck and stared out the window. He closed his eyes, recalling the events of the last week: Hermione, crying beside him in the rain, and Katie professing her love for him. 

"So, now you have _two_ girls, George?" Ron asked, suddenly appearing at the foot of the stairs. "How many do you _need,_ anyway?" 

"I don't have two girls, Ron," George said coldly. 

Fred smirked. "Two just want him." Ron rolled his eyes at him. "What, tad jealous?" 

"Why would I be jealous of _him?"_ Ron jabbed a finger in George's direction. 

"Because he knows how to treat girls respectfully?" Ginny, the youngest of the Weasleys pushed Ron out of her way as she came down the stairs. "Unlike you." 

"Sod off, Ginny," Ron said nastily. "Nobody asked you." 

"And nobody asked you to come down and interfere with George's social life," she shot back. Ginny poured herself a glass of milk, gulping half of it down. "Maybe I can help, George. Considering I've _had_ admirers." 

"I _had_ a girlfriend, Ginny," Ron said, "until George decided to steal her away from me." 

"You're talking about Hermione, then?" George interjected. Ron nodded as if daring him to go on. "For your information, _she_ came to _me,_ I didn't go to her." He stood up and headed for the stairs. 

"That's not what she told me," Ron said, crossing his arms. 

George turned around. "What are you talking about?" When Ron said nothing, George said, "I'm the one who pushed for her to settle things with you before even thinking about me." 

"Funny, Hermione had a different story," Ron said casually. 

"And what was that?" 

"She said you were pressuring her," Ron said. "Claimed she felt trapped--didn't know what to do." 

"Stop lying to me, Ron." George started up the stairs. Then he stopped and turned to face his younger brother. "She might not be my girlfriend in a year, or even in a month, but I know she'll never be yours again." 

"That's not the point!" Ron protested. "I'm telling you the truth! Why do you think she was so upset that night in the rain? Because she's confused! She doesn't think she can get out of this relationship with you. And she can't, can she? Because you won't let her." 

"That's rubbish, Ron, and you know it," Fred said, standing up. "You're a filthy liar." 

"Hurts when the shoe's on the other foot, doesn't it?" Ron smirked. 

"I still don't believe you," George stated. "If Hermione wants out, all she has to do is say so." 

Ron shrugged. "Whatever." He grabbed a biscuit and walked outside. 

George stared at Fred. "He's lying. I just spoke to Hermione--she said she wouldn't miss the opening of our shop for the world." He climbed the stairs and shut himself in his bedroom, turned off the lights and fell into bed. 

~

_George grinned at her. "Everything's ready--we open in a week, just in time for the start of the school year. You're coming, right?" _

Hermione smiled. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." After a minute, she asked, "Ron won't be there, will he?" 

"Maybe," George answered, kicking a rock into the stream beside him. "He still isn't talking to me, though." He glanced back at her. "You'll still come, won't you? Because if he is _there, we can just hide you in a closet or something." _

She laughed. "I'll be there, don't worry." 

~

"George, get up! Fred, you too!" Mrs. Weasley pulled the sheets off of their beds to wake them. "I won't let you be late to your own shop opening. Come on! Breakfast is downstairs for you." 

The twins pulled on their clothes and hurried downstairs for a bite to eat, and then they Apparated to the Weasley Wizarding Wheezes premises. It was already decorated for the occasion (they had done that the night before in case there was a situation like the one they encountered that morning). Balloons hung magically from the ceiling, bewitched so they would never fall or pop, and confetti constantly fell, seemingly never landing. Fred and George dressed in their finest robes and stood by the door, greeting each customer as he or she entered. 

Lee Jordan, Fred and George's best friend came in and bought a few things. Oliver, of course, came by ("I probably wouldn't have, but I'm only about a block away," he had said), along with Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and her sister, and Harry Potter. How Harry had gotten there, George wasn't entirely sure. 

However, he wasn't very concerned with that. He was worried he hadn't given Hermione sufficient directions--although even if his directions had been bad, it wouldn't have taken her this long to find the shop. George checked his watch again, for the fifth time that minute. It was still seventeen minutes after five. 

"Come on, George," Fred whined, pulling his twin's arm. "We've got to close up now. Just face it, Hermione's not coming." 

"She said she would," George protested. "Maybe something came up." 

"Maybe." Fred looked around. "The others have left. We should go now too." He thought a moment. "How about leaving a note?" Fred reached behind the desk and produced a quill and a piece of parchment. "To Hermione, my dearest?" 

George shook his head. "Hermione's fine." 

"All right." Fred scribbled something down on the parchment quickly. " 'Dear Hermione, I waited long after closing, but you didn't arrive. See you soon. Love, George.' How's that?" 

"Good." George walked out and Fred stuck the note to the door. He hoped she would see it. 


	6. Chapter 6

George stared mournfully out the window. What had he done wrong? What had he done to make her run away from him? Maybe he had been pressuring her like Ron had said, and maybe she had just been afraid to tell him. But she had seemed so happy that last day they had spent together. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

"Bugger," he muttered. "Bugger." It was nearly the end of summer. Two more days and Ron and Ginny would be boarding the Hogwarts Express with Harry Potter and Hermione. He would probably never see her again. 

There was suddenly a soft knock at the door. "Come in," George called glumly. 

"How are you getting on?" Fred asked, coming up behind him. 

"I must have written a hundred letters to her, Fred," he said. "She hasn't answered a single one. I don't know what happened. One minute she was fine, the next...it's almost as if we're on different planets. I think I love her, Fred, and now I don't know _what_ to do." George pushed open the window, grateful for the cool breeze; the summer had been so long and hot, and they had hardly gotten any rain. 

At some point during George's speech, Fred had sat down. He fingered the quilt on the bed absently. "You love her, George?" 

He shrugged. "I can't see why her doing this to me hurts so much. I mean, I must." George felt like he was talking to himself now, and really, he was. "I think I'm going insane. If I could just get some sign that she's all right." 

~

Hermione stared coldly out the window of the Hogwarts Express. Harry was with her. She didn't know where Ron was, though she assumed he was with the other prefects in their compartment. She had refused to sit with them. Somehow it didn't feel right anymore. But the truth was that nothing felt right. Hogwarts didn't even feel right. The only thing that seemed right was crying, but she was done with tears. They never solved anything. 

George had sent her so many letters, and she had read every one of them, biting her bottom lip the whole time. She had them with her, she never went anywhere without them. She had written back once or twice, but could never bring herself to send them. They would not have made up for what she had done anyway. 

"Hermione, you okay?" Harry had put a hand on her shoulder. 

"I'm just tired, that's all," she lied, her eyes fixed on the horizon. They seemed frozen to that spot. 

"You can't keep this up, Hermione," Harry said. She almost sensed a tinge of annoyance to his voice. 

"Keep what up?" 

"The way you're acting." 

"Once I get back to Hogwarts, I'll be fine," Hermione said, trying to convince herself more than anything. "I need the schoolwork to occupy my mind." She exhaled. "I'll be fine in a week. You'll see." 

Harry said nothing after that, and the Hogwarts Express moved swiftly down the tracks, over the grassy hills, across the rivers. Hermione would go back to normal, he thought to himself. She had to. Harry found himself almost looking forward to Ron and Hermione's next big row, since they seemed to have one every year. He got excited every time she showed some sign of being the way she used to be--he nearly enjoyed it when she corrected his grammar. And soon she was back to the way she had always been. It had taken three weeks, but she was normal again. Ron had made some rude comment about her and Viktor Krum and she had smashed a slate over his head, and that how it all came into the place. The long, dry summer was finally over. 


End file.
